


I'm Not Your Favorite Person, but I'll Manage

by gingayellow



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M, Season 5 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-04
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-03-26 17:55:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13862886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gingayellow/pseuds/gingayellow
Summary: Keith is gone. Shiro is ill. Lance does his best. [Shiro/Keith and Allura/Lance implied, although it's mostly Shiro and Lance friendship. SPOILERS FOR SEASON 5]





	I'm Not Your Favorite Person, but I'll Manage

Title: I'm Not Your Favorite Person, but I'll Manage  
Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender  
Characters/Pairing: Shiro/Keith, Allura/Lance  
Rating: PG-13  
Disclaimer: Not mine, anything mentioned here by name isn't mine  
Warnings: None  
Notes: Spoilers for season 5. (Let's say this take place before "Postmortem"). Written for hc_bingo, prompts are: WILD CARD (taking care of someone), magical trouble, pneumonia, and exhaustion.

 

Lance frowned at the bowl of goo. It was a different texture than usual—it was soupier. But Shiro hadn’t been able to keep the regular goo down, so Hunk had worked his magic, and despite some trouble (and one small fire), they had something that Shiro could probably eat. Maybe. They would see.

He set the bowl on the tray, along with a small water bottle. Shiro’s timing for getting pneumonia sucked. Not that there was ever a good time to get sick, but still: this meant they were a Lion short, while Allura and Lotor tried to make treaties with roughly twenties different world at the same time. And Lotor was probably getting even closer to Allura, and—

_Calm down. Allura can take care of herself. And you’re gonna tell her how you feel soon, so just focus on Shiro for now._

The door to Shiro’s room swished open, and like he had been the first time, Lance was sad but not surprised how spartan it was. There was a bed (with Shiro in it), and desk with a tablet, but that was about it. There were only two other things in the room. The box art for Killbot Phantasm 1—after Shiro had gotten into a nerd fest with him and Pidge about who was cooler, Fog or Storm, they’d let him have it. And, hanging on the wall near the desk, were a set of dog tags. Lance had been evil the first day Shiro was bed ridden and snuck a look at them. Kogane, Keith.

Lance wouldn’t be surprised if Shiro wore them when he went out.

He’d never admit it out loud, but Lance wished Keith was here. More than anything. He didn’t know just how deep his bond with Shiro went, but he knew that it was deep enough that Shiro would feel better if Keith was taking care of him.

He and Hunk had tried to contact Keith through the Blade, but Kolivan had refused—even after Princess Allura tried every diplomatic trick she knew. The mission he was on was too important, and Keith was too easily compromised by emotions as it was. Then Pidge and Matt tried to sneak a message, but it was proving difficult. They hadn’t given up, but they also hadn’t succeeded. 

In one very desperate moment, Lance had asked Lotor to talk to Kolivan. But Lotor, with his annoyingly logical reasoning, reminded Lance that was unlikely the head of a rebel alliance would listen to the prince of the Empire he was rebelling against, even if Lotor was disgraced. 

Which meant Shiro was sick, and Keith didn’t know. 

It sucked. A lot. But all he could right now was play nurse and hope Shiro would improve and/or they could contact Keith. 

Lance set the tray on the desk and placed his hand on Shiro’s forehead. Still feverish. Lance sighed and did some mental math—he needed to give Shiro another dose of medicine in about a varga. He decided to let Shiro rest for now as he went back to the desk to open the water bottle. He needed all the sleep he could get—

“… Keith?” Shiro’s voice was raspy and gritty. “Keith, is that you?”

…. Aw, geez. What was he supposed to do?

Shiro looked at him, eyes unfocused, wet with unshed tears. “Keith, please talk to me.”

“… Hey, buddy,” Lance breathed as he grabbed the water bottle, and took a seat next to Shiro. He wasn’t saying he was Keith… but he also couldn’t bring himself to shatter Shiro’s belief that his dearest friend was here when Shiro needed him the most. Shiro was clearly under a lot of stress the past few days, enough to make him this sick. If this helped, so be it. He helped Shiro sit up, popped open the bottle, and offered it to Shiro. “Please take a sip.” To his relief, Shiro obeyed. 

“Thank you, Keith,” Shiri whispered. His voice sounded a little better. “I’m glad you’re here.” Lance relaxed, which turned out to be a mistake, because Shiro started crying.

His youngest nephew cried when he was sick too, so Lance knew what to do. He rubbed Shiro’s back, letting him get it out of system. “It’s okay, um, buddy,” Lance murmured. This was so weird. “You’ll be fine—”

“No, I won’t,” Shiro sobbed, hiding his face in his hands. “I—I keep screwing up, Keith.”

“Shiro—”

“I’m just so mad all the time, and—and I’ll make decisions that seem good, like they’re the only real choice we have, but later on I realize that I left the rest of the team in the dark, and—and—”

“And what, Shiro?”

He looked at Lance, face stained with tears, eyes red. “I can feel **her** , watching me.”

Lance didn’t need further clarification.

“Shiro, rest.” Lance pushed him back down on the mattress. “I’ll be back soon.”

“All right,” Shiro whispered, exhaustion claiming him. “I’m sorry, Keith… I’m sorry… you trusted me and I let you down.”

\--

Kolivan’s face filled the vidscreen. “Paladin.”

“Kolivan,” Lance said simply. “You’re going to tell me how to contact Keith. Now.”


End file.
